Raining
by Single.Voice
Summary: [complete] It's a cold, gloomy Sunday afternoon, and it's raining. Pouring, actually. But she's suffering from a broken heart, and she is desperate. LillyOliver.


_Raining _

--

She has never felt this lonely.

_Never_.

It's a cold, gloomy Sunday afternoon, and it's raining. Pouring, actually. But she's suffering from a broken heart, and she is desperate.

So she calls up the one person she shouldn't.

"Hi," she says, when he answers. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," he replies. "It's raining. I can't go out. What can you do in the rain?"

"You can walk," she answers. "Haven't you ever gone for a walk in the rain? It's the best feeling."

"Never," he says stubbornly. "Never even thought about it."

"Do you want to?"

She's pleasantly surprised when he doesn't hesitate. "Sure."

--

She laughs at him when he meets her on the corner of his street, wearing multiple sweaters and a rain jacket.

"What?" he says defensively. "It's _cold_."

She shakes her head. "But you're going to take the fun out if it."

"The fun out of _what_, exactly?"

"Walking in the rain," she declares, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

She glances at him as his teeth chatter audibly.

"It's cold," he says again.

"This will be fun," she promises. "I've done this before. Trust me."

"I do," he says, crossing his arms over his chest in an effort to keep warm.

And though she knows she shouldn't, she feels her heart beat a little quicker after that.

"Good."

For a while, they walk in complete silence, side by side, except for the noise of his teeth chattering.

"When does the fun part come along?" he asks after a while.

She rolls her eyes. "It's fun as soon as you let yourself enjoy it."

"When's that?"

She ignores his question this time and asks one of her own.

"So what's up with you and Miley?"

She closes her eyes, regret already gnawing at her.

_There._ She has said it. No going back now.

"What do you mean, what's up with me and Miley?"

She opens her eyes and peers at him, nervously. "Nothing, really. Just…what happened with you guys?"

"What happened with us?" he repeats slowly. "Nothing. Why?"

"No reason. You guys just seemed a little distant lately. Or something."

"No," he says, looking at her curiously. "We're fine. Why? Did she say something to you?"

She hasn't planned this far yet. In her head, it's all worked out the way she wants it to. Perhaps that's the problem with talking to yourself.

"Nothing," she says finally. "I just wondered, that's all."

"You wondered," he repeats flatly.

"I wondered," she echoes.

The rain has soaked their clothes now.

"You must really like her a lot."

"What?" he asks, shaking his head slightly.

She repeats herself.

"Oh. I do." He pauses. "Like her a lot, I mean. But we're not serious or anything."

"No?"

"No. It's only been a week, if you think about it."

"A week is a long time," she says softly.

He looks at her.

"Do you really think so?"

"Yeah…" she mumbles. "I do." She looks up at the sky, allowing the rain to pour on her face. "For me, a week would be a long time. Though I guess it would depend."

"On what?"

"On who I'm going out with, I guess."

"Why would that matter? It would be someone you like, anyway."

"Someone I like…" she says thoughtfully. "I suppose."

"Wouldn't it?"

She doesn't answer for a while. "Well, yeah. Someone I like."

"I wouldn't go out with someone unless I like them. Like Miley, you know? I really like her. Though I can't really say that to her, so it's cool to be able to talk to a friend about it." He laughs a little, nervously. "I know it sounds weird," he admits.

"Hey, let's not talk about her for a while?" It comes out more like a question.

"Who, Miley?"

"Yeah." She hopes he'll understand.

"Okay," he agrees. "I'm sorry. I know we're kind of putting you in an awkward spot, being the best friend in the middle of a relationship and all. It must be kind of annoying to have to listen to both of us talk about the other."

_Annoying._ He didn't get it. _It's so much more than that._

"So thanks for putting up with it." He punches her in the arm gently. "You're a good friend."

"Yeah," she says, at a loss for words. "You're welcome."

"Hey, you're also kind of quiet today. You know, quieter than usual. Who's on your mind?" he teases.

She lets out a strangled laugh. "No one."

"There has to be someone," he insists. "Come on, tell me. I won't laugh."

"You don't want to know," she deadpans.

"I do. Or I wouldn't ask. Come on."

"You really don't."

"You can tell me anything. We're friends."

"I don't wanna talk about it," she says, avoiding eye contact.

"Tell me!" he grins. "You're making me curious."

"Stop it. Stop asking me."

"Come on!"

"_No!_"

She's horrified to come to the realization that tears are welling up in her eyes. Why did he always have to bring out her dramatic side?

He looks surprised. "What's wrong?"

"It's a sore subject, okay?" she says brusquely, trying to force down the lump in her throat. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"I didn't mean to get you mad," he defends himself. "Really."

"It's fine," she says dismissively. "Just forget it."

She looks at the sky. "It's getting really dark. We should go back. It was a bad idea to go walking in the rain anyway."

"Nah," he shakes his head. "It wasn't so bad."

She squints at him. "You hate the rain."

"I don't."

"You do."

"I _don't_."

"You _do_."

"I don't hate you," he says abruptly.

"You don't."

"I don't," he consents.

"What," she asks slowly, "does _that_ have to do with anything?"

He smiles, slightly. "Walking in the rain isn't so bad. Not when you're walking with a friend."

"It's not. I told you."

"I should take Miley one day," he says vaguely. "She'd like this."

She looks down.

"Or maybe it can just be our thing," he says softly. "You never know."

If only she could tell him.

"Maybe," she whispers.

No, telling him would be too hard.

"Hey, Oliver?"

But she could _show_ him.

"Yeah?"

He looks at her, and their eyes meet.

Now, she's not even sure who is moving toward who. All she knows is that one of them is, or maybe both of them…and their lips are touching.

She doesn't know what she is doing. All she knows is that it feels good.

He breaks away. "I'm sorry." He is shaking his head, ashamed.

"No," she says helplessly. "Don't say that. Don't be sorry."

He closes his eyes. "Lilly," he says quietly, opening his eyes. She won't look at him.

"I know, okay? I know. You're happy already. I shouldn't try to take that away from you. It isn't your fault. I shouldn't be mad. I know what you're going to say. I get it." She looks up at him, her eyes glassy. "I know. I tell it to myself every day." Her voice cracks. "I'm _sorry_ for having to tell myself every day."

He doesn't say anything. There's nothing left to say that she wants to hear.

She hangs her head. She has done all that she could do.

They walk back in silence.

--

He drops her off at her front door.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he tells her.

"Okay."

"I'm sorry," he adds gently, touching her arm.

She shakes her head. "Don't be."

"Maybe we'll go walking in the rain again another day, okay?" he says softly, nudging her.

She smiles sadly. "Maybe," she says quietly, and her voice cracks just the slightest bit.

He nods understandingly and offers her a smile.

That had been her chance, but it's gone now.

It's a cold, gloomy Sunday afternoon, and it's raining. Pouring, actually. And she's suffering from a broken heart.

She has never felt this lonely.

_Never_.

But some things are just meant to be.

So she smiles anyway, as rain and her own tears, mingled together, cascade down her cheeks as she watches him walk away.

--

_Fin_

--

_A/N_: Hm, I actually don't like Lilly/Oliver together as a couple too much, so it's kind of perplexing that I wrote this. But… Yeah. Review, please. Be as critical as you'd like.


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